


par the course

by missmichellebelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Secret Crush, Teenage Boys Being Stupid, Valentine's Day, mini golf, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: Mini golfing is nothing like kicking rocks off the unfinished apartment buildings downtown, and Levi immediately regrets all of his life choices.





	par the course

**Author's Note:**

> I ONLY MISSED VALENTINE'S DAY BY 8 DAYS GUYS
> 
> (this might read like a sequel because it is technically in the same universe/takes place after something I _haven't finished writing yet_ OTL sorry)
> 
> wow amazing I wrote something where Eren and Levi are _both 16_ who am I lol

“Do you want to go mini golfing with me?”

Levi’s boot swings past the rock he was intending to kick with so much force that he nearly topples backwards.

He stares at his target for a few silent moments, and then slowly glances over at Eren. He’s nearly curled into a ball at the edge of the rooftop, six inches and eleven stories from imminent death, staring at Levi over the cross of his folded arms.

“What?”

Eren pillows his cheek against his forearm, and the smile he cracks is so small it could hardly be considered a smile at all.

“Do you want to go mini golfing with me?” Eren reiterates without an ounce of hesitation, and Levi huffs out a sigh, looking down again. This time, he doesn’t miss the rock—it clears the edge of the building and disappears somewhere out of sight. He stares after it as Eren lets out a low whistle. “Shit, you’re going to kick my ass with moves like that.”

Levi tips his head back, staring up at the starless sky and pushing his hair out of his face.

“I didn’t say I was going.”

“Nah.”

Levi glances over at him carefully, but Eren isn’t looking at him anymore. His head is turned away, the lights of the wakening cityscape reflected in his eyes. He’s not smiling anymore, his lips pressed together thoughtfully instead. Levi swallows.

“You will, though.” Eren turns to meet his gaze, always more confident than he has any right being, but there’s a warmth there that has Levi looking away again—although he flips Eren off this time.

“Like fuck I will,” he mutters darkly, more to himself than in retort, and starts looking for more rocks to kick. _Mini golfing_. Since when do they go _mini golfing?_ Levi makes fun of the people that do shit like that, not _join_ them.

 _Eren_ goes mini golfing, or bowling, or whatever else it is he does with the friends he has that aren’t Levi. Which is, whatever, _fine_ , Levi doesn’t _give a shit_. He’ll make fun of Eren for it, Eren will laugh it off, they’ll go on with their fucking lives. It’s how things have always been. It’s how _they_ have always been.

Well… Until recently. Eren doesn’t really hang out with those other friends as much, hasn’t really been out _doing_ things Levi makes fun of him, and Eren lets him, but there’s no laughing about it afterward.

(Levi hardly laughs to begin with, but Eren—he doesn’t laugh as much these days.)

Levi had been selfish enough to enjoy it at first, but now—

“Hey.”

“ _Fucking christ_ , Eren.” Levi throws up an arm as if to hit him away, and Eren dodges it easily. “Do that again and I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

“Uh huh,” Eren says, like Levi’s threats are empty. Like Levi wouldn’t actually kick his ass. “Do you think you could kick a rock onto the roof of the building next to us?” Eren unnecessarily points, and Levi unnecessarily looks.

“Yeah?” It wouldn’t even be a challenge.

“Bet I could do it first.” Eren steals the rock Levi was about to kick the shit out of from right in front of him with his stupid soccer team skills, elbowing Levi out of the way in the process. The whole production makes his kick sloppy and badly aimed—he misses.

“Pathetic,” Levi drawls, and then shoves Eren away so he can go look for another rock.

“Clipped it!” Eren calls from behind him as he kicks another rock, and there’s _nearly_ a laugh there, but it’s almost like Eren swallows it back down. It draws Levi up short, and he stares contemplatively at the dusk-washed cement. He never thought he’d miss that sound—that he’d long for something he used to find so grating and annoying.

He feels a certainty start to solidify in his chest, and begrudgingly resigns himself to it.

“When?” He asks, straightening and looking back at Eren. He’s wound up for another kick, but he stops, looking over at Levi, his eyes wide and curious.

For a moment, Levi is reminded of the indignant thirteen year old he locked eyes with in detention all those years ago.

Eren exhales, and there’s a looseness to his limbs that Levi hasn’t seen in awhile.

“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”

Their eyes hold for a few moments longer, and then Levi kicks the rock he found and nails the shot on the first try.

“Done.”

“Ah! No fair! You distracted me, you fucking cheater.”

There’s almost a grin that time.

*

Mini golfing is nothing like kicking rocks off the unfinished apartment buildings downtown, and Levi immediately regrets all of his life choices. There are _other_ ways to cheer Eren up, there are _other_ things that can be done, there are _other_ days on which to do them. Especially since—

“It’s _Valentine’s Day?_ ” He hisses, grabbing Eren by the arm and tugging him as far away as he can get from… _Everything_. The crowd, the noise, the atrocious mess of pink and red _everywhere_. Is it customary for mini golf courses to decorate for Valentine’s Day? Is that an _actual thing_ that happens in this world?

Eren stares back at Levi like he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.

“Yeah…?” Eren furrows his eyebrows. “Did you forget what day Valentine’s Day is?”

“I don’t exactly circle it on my _fucking calendar_ , Eren.” He shoves Eren away, which isn’t very effective in this corner of the arcade he’s herded them into. _Ugh_ , an _arcade_. If Eren wanted to go to an arcade, there are better, less children-and-couple infested ones in town. Levi even _likes_ some of them.

“You have a calendar?” Eren sounds _immensely_ intrigued by this, and this time, Levi shoves him straight into the wall. “ _Ah_ , ah, okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Eren holds up his hands in surrender, but there’s a glimmer of humor in his eyes that has Levi rolling his own. _Fucking brat_.

“Whatever.” Levi takes a step back. “I’m leaving.” Levi doesn’t _celebrate_ Valentine’s Day. Or any holidays, really. He’s fine just staying at home and ignoring their general existence. But mini golfing surrounded by lovey-dovey couples? That definitely counts as celebrating, and sounds like the last thing on _earth_ Levi wants to do.

When Eren had invited him mini golfing, a part of him had hoped that maybe Eren had found some old, unpopular mini golf place that no one ever went to. Maybe then it wouldn’t have been completely intolerable. Maybe then he could have gotten Eren to smile and act like himself again without completely suffering the entire time.

Did Eren have to pick _this_ place? Did it _have_ to be Valentine’s Day? There are plenty of other perfectly good, not-holiday-related days for Levi to suck it up through a round of mini golf.

But _this?_ This is _too much_.

A kid starts wailing at the top of their lungs nearby, and Levi is fairly certain that if he doesn’t leave in the next thirty seconds, someone is going to die.

“Wait, wait, Levi—” Eren’s hand closes sudden and firm around Levi’s wrist. “Wait.”

“I don’t want to do this, Eren,” Levi states coldly, eyes still fixed on the exit. “Let go.”

“Listen, I just—” Eren’s grip tightens. “I know you hate this kind of shit, just… Give it twenty minutes, and then you can leave. _We_ can leave, just…” There is something in the way Eren’s fingers are digging into his skin, in the way his voice gets quieter, that makes Levi hear a _please_ that hasn’t been said. “Just twenty minutes.”

_Please._

Levi sighs, closes his eyes, assaulted with too many sounds and too many smells, and—

And he’s not a completely shit friend, is he?

(Well, _probably_ , but he’s fucking trying, all right?)

He turns back around.

“You’re fucking paying for this.” Levi’s not sure if he means just monetarily or not, but either way, Eren’s face slacks with relief. For just a moment, his fingers grip even tighter, but before Levi can think too hard about it, he’s let go.

“Of course.”

*

To Eren’s credit, it is… _Considerably_ quieter and less crowded once they have their tacky putters and are out on one of the four courses. That doesn’t mean it still isn’t too crowded for Levi’s taste, but at least he doesn’t feel like he’s about to start suffocating.

“Even the clubs are fucking pink,” he mutters to himself as they wait for the couple ahead of them to finish, although even he can admit that he’s being picky about it. Golf clubs aside, there are only some pink and red balloons scattered near the course entrances to even remind him of what day it is. It’s still annoying, but… It could be worse.

There’s already _another fucking couple_ lining up behind them, and Levi had no idea mini golfing was such a popular Valentine’s Day activity. Aren’t people supposed to go on romantic dinners or some shit? Do people honestly think hitting a ball around with a stick is the height of romance?

Levi sees another couple off to their left taking a kissing selfie in front of the fucking cheap ass castle, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take this. Has it been twenty minutes yet?

Eren lets out a long suffering sigh as he shakes his head, as if _he’s_ the one who is putting up with shit right now.

“They’re always pink,” he affirms. “That’s not a special thing just because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Whatever. It’s not like Levi would fucking _know_. He doesn’t do this kind of shit, after all.

If there _is_ anything to be said for this horrible situation, it’s that the couple in front of them at least seems to be pretty competent at this whole _mini golf_ thing. They move onto the next hole before Levi can even start complaining about having to wait.

Unfortunately, they move on to the next hole hand-in-hand, which makes Levi feel like he might vomit.

“I fucking hate this,” he says, crossing his arms as he watches Eren place his green ball down in a worn groove on the course. Levi always thought mini golf was castles and windmills and shit, but this is just… It’s a fucking _straight line_. Is this supposed to be hard?

“I know,” Eren says, sounding perfectly happy about it, and then pulls back his club and—misses. He fucking _misses_.

“You fucking _missed_ ,” Levi says, gesturing as if Eren didn’t see.

“It’s harder than it looks, all right.” Eren makes as if to nudge Levi’s leg with the head of his club, and Levi steps away from it, snapping his most potent _you better fucking not_ _or I will literally kill you_ glare in Eren’s direction.

“Or you just suck,” Levi mutters, and this time, _this time_ , there is definitely a hint of a grin at the corner of Eren’s mouth. Even as he’s propping his no doubt dirty as shit club over his shoulders.

“Oh yeah? Show me up, then.” He gives a ridiculous, over-the-top bow, and Levi scowls at him, setting his own ball down on the course. He hasn’t been mini golfing… Well, _ever_ , but he just has to hit a ball into a hole, right? It’s not like there’s some trick to it. It’s a fucking kid’s game, after all.

Still, he copies the stance that Eren had and whacks it.

It shoots down the course far faster than Eren’s had (suck on _that_ , Jaeger), going, going, going—past the hole, past Eren’s ball, and then it hits the wall at the far end and bounces off of it and nearly all the way back to him. Levi stares at the tiny, offending object in disbelief.

There’s a gasping sound behind him, and when Levi turns, Eren is biting his fist. His shoulders are shaking and his eyes and crinkled and he’s _laughing_ without actually doing it, and Levi can hardly be mad at what just happened.

(Hardly.)

“Yep,” Eren says once he’s gotten control over himself. He might have been able to subdue the laughter, but he isn’t able to completely wipe the smile off his face. Levi hates how relieved that smile makes him feel. If he’d known it was this easy to make Eren laugh again, he probably would have sucked at mini golf sooner. And now that he’s here, there’s no reason he can’t just keep on sucking.

“You’re real hot shit.”

On second thought.

“ _Fuck you_ , this isn’t over.”

Competition has always been a cornerstone of their friendship, and Eren probably wouldn’t be too happy about winning if Levi threw the game intentionally.

Eren walks past him and towards where his ball is _considerably_ closer to the hole.

“This game is stupid anyway!” Levi calls after him, and then watches with furrowed eyebrows as Eren puts his ball right in on his second try. _What the fuck_.

“Birdie!” Eren calls down the course, and he’s still smiling as he pulls the neon pink scoresheet out of the back pocket of his jeans. And maybe Levi would appreciate it if he didn’t feel so fucking aggravated and confused.

“ _What?_ ”

*

“Huh.” Eren tips his head contemplatively as he sets his ball down. “This one is par 3, too.”

“Stop making up words and golf, for fuck’s sake.” Levi scowls, glancing over his shoulder. The couple they’d been behind is nowhere to be seen on any of the holes directly ahead of them (and _seriously_ , how often do you have to go mini golfing to be _that_ good at it?), and while the couple behind them isn’t anywhere near as good, they suck marginally _less_ than Levi and Eren do.

Who knew mini golfing was an actual skill that people possessed?

“I’m not making words up.” Eren’s voice bubbles with humor, and it makes Levi’s chest feel weird. “It’s how many strokes it takes to finish.”

The couple behind them is going to be coming up on their ankles soon, and it’s making Levi feel aggravated and anxious.

“So three strokes to finish?” He asks off-handedly, distracted. “Sounds like you.”

Levi hears Eren swing, and he turns around just in time to see his ball sail over the entire hole and roll down the pathway past it. Levi makes a point of shielding his eyes with the flat of his hand as if to block out the nonexistent sun and stares after it, before looking back at where Eren is… Curled in half over his club, quietly dying of laughter.

Still fighting it, then.

He stares at Eren for a few moments as he laughs, teeth bared and eyes shut, and it nearly makes Levi smile, too.

“You really suck at this.”

“ _Fuck_.” Eren falls to his knees, wiping his entire palm over his face before pressing his hand to his chest. “You’re such a dirty fucking cheater.”

“Could you move.” Levi nudges Eren’s ribs with his knee. “It’s my turn.”

“That was a cheap shot.”

“Not as cheap as yours, now get the fuck out of the way. You’re not an obstacle on this hole.”

“That’s what he said?” The way Eren says it, it’s like he’s not sure if the joke actually _works_.

(It doesn’t, not really, but Levi cracks a smile, anyway.)

“Wait!” Eren shoots to standing so quickly he nearly falls forward, and Levi rocks back a step. “It’s still my turn!”

“Uh, pretty sure you just went.” Levi doesn’t even bother turning his head, his eyes flicking in the direction Eren’s ball went flying.

“That doesn’t count!” Eren insists, indignant. “That was… Foul play.”

“Foul play?” Levi drawls, unimpressed. “Not fucking likely. Don’t go blaming me for being shitty at this.” Levi bodily moves Eren out of the way and sets his ball down on the course. “Why are you so shitty at this, by the way? I thought you went mini golfing, _like, all the time_.” Levi pitches his voice in what is, admittedly, a poor imitation of Eren’s, and then rolls his eyes.

When Eren doesn’t immediately answer, Levi looks back at him, and Eren turns away quickly.

_Weird._

“Guess I’m just rusty?” He suggests, raising one shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll, uh, go get my ball.”

Without another word, or without even _looking_ at Levi, Eren dashes up the side of the course. Levi’s eyes follow him, and then he sighs, shaking his head. So much for things returning to semi-normalcy, but then again, Levi knows better than to think that a few smiles and bouts of laughter mean that everything’s all _hunky-fucking-dory_ now.

Levi lines up his putter, hits, and… Watches his ball roll back down the steep incline of the hole to where it started. He frowns at it, and then glances over at where Eren is on hands and knees looking for his ball.

Well. What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him.

On his second stroke, he makes it all the way up the incline, and Eren shouts, “Found it!” while holding his ball victoriously in the air. “Shit, did you make it up the hill on the first try?”

Eren seems to have gotten over whatever it was that made him not want to look at Levi, because he’s staring now, eyes wide and marginally surprised. Levi considers it for half a moment.

“Yep.”

He never said he was _above_ cheating.

*

All things considered, the entire golf course is pretty unimpressive. Nearly every course they've golfed has just been some tricky angles or steep hills without even a _hint_ of kitsch, with the worst obstacles being the natural wear-and-tear that comes from years of frequent use and little maintenance or their own incompetence at fucking mini golfing.

Plus the lighting is actual shit.

"Are you having fun?" Eren has the gall to ask him when they finally reach a hole that has an actual themed structure and not just a random wall to navigate. Levi surveys what looks to be some kind of haunted house, wondering who the fuck designs this shit but also which of the three holes he's _supposed_ to be aiming for.

He answers Eren with a noncommittal shrug. Levi wouldn't say he's having _fun_ , but... It's not as awful as he thought it would be, either. Not that he intends on _telling_ Eren that, because the second Levi gives him an inch, Eren will take a fucking mile.

“Are _you_ having fun?” Levi intones derisively, even though it’s kind of an honest question.

Eren stares at the haunted house for a few seconds too long, tilting his head to the side contemplatively before he looks back at Levi. He can’t see any teeth, and there isn’t a trace of laughter remnants, but Levi can still see Eren’s smile—small and warm and _there_.

“Yeah.” There’s something wistful in his voice. “Thanks for coming.” He pauses, tips his head in the opposite direction. “Thanks for _staying_.”

It’s been well past twenty minutes now. Eren knows that. _Levi_ knows that. And, what’s worse, Eren _knows_ that Levi knows that.

He huffs, pretending to focus his attention on the hole, and offers a flippant, “Don’t get used to it.” Without putting too much thought into it, Levi decides that the center hole is probably the best bet. It usually is. As far as he can tell, mini golf generally isn’t designed to trick you—just aggravate you beyond measure. Not that knowing any of this means much–he'll try to aim for it, sure, but he's been aiming on every fucking hole so far and it's meant essentially nothing.

Although maybe he’s actually getting better at this, because when he hits the ball this time, it actually goes where he meant it to. Huh, it only took… What hole is this? Thirteen.

(Wow, a haunted house for hole thirteen, _so creative_.)

Not that it fucking matters. He could get a hole-in-one, and he'd still never play mini golf again if he had any say in it.

"Nice shot.” Eren gestures with his chin to the haunted house, and Levi shrugs off the compliment. "I might make a pro mini golfer out of you yet."

Oh for fuck’s sake, is _that_ a thing, too?

"Keep dreaming, Jaeger." Eren is lucky he’s made _any_ kind of mini golfer out of Levi, even if only for one night.

Levi makes his way around the haunted house, arriving just in time to see Eren's ball shoot out of one of the pipes and completely wail Levi's own ball, knocking it about three feet away from its previous position. That _motherfucking piece of shit_. ”Fucking watch it!"

"Did I hit you?" Eren jogs into view, torn between looking apologetic and giddy, and Levi simply gestures to the balls. Eren looks at them, looks back at Levi, looks back at the balls. “Uhhh…?”

“Your ball fucking hit my ball.” Although, now that Levi’s looking at it, Eren kind of did him a favor. He’s in a much better position relative to the hole, and he might actually get a birdie or... Whatever the fuck it's called.

“That’s what he said,” Eren says under his breath.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” It’s the thirteenth hole. The sex jokes have been said, and then said two more times. If Eren is trying to be funny, he needs to try harder.

( _Although_ , a part of Levi says, _at least he’s trying at all._ )

“Deadly.”

(…then again, maybe not.)

It draws Levi up short for a moment, and he pauses where he’s lining up his shot to look at Eren. They hold each others stares before Eren finally breaks it, glancing away and shifting his weight.

“Too soon?”

Levi opens his mouth to say something, but he can see the couple waiting on them poking their stupid heads around the edge of the haunted house. There are things to be said, but not now. Not here.

There’s a tension now, a tightly wound string stretched between them that seems to negate all the progress Eren’s seemed to make since they got there. It makes Levi’s second stroke feel like a miss before he even connects with the ball. It goes, and goes, and he _sinks it_ , and for a moment—a very, _very_ brief moment—Levi feels an immense surge of excitement course through his entire body that seems to overpower everything else. His caution, his worry, his shame, his pride. It’s the kind of feeling that would make other people jump in the air, or scream in excitement, and Levi nearly has his hands thrown up in the air—

The ball bounces out of the hole and continues a good foot past it. The feeling evaporates instantly.

Or at least finds a very different outlet.

"Bullshit!” Levi throws his club down on the ground. “That was such fucking bullshit!" Levi is about to beat the shit out of this haunted house with his golf club. "Fucking rigged!"

"I have never seen that happen before," Eren states in shock.

"What the fuck kind of bullshit—"

"I've literally—" Eren presses a hand to his mouth, and Levi knows he's about to start laughing even before his shoulders start shaking.

"Shut the fuck up.” Levi picks up his club and points it at Eren threateningly. “I will fucking kick your ass, this is such _bullshit_.”

Eren waves his hands in front of him, fending off Levi’s not-yet-made attack, but he’s still fucking _laughing_. And it’s the worst feeling in the world, because Levi is _pissed as fuck_ and Eren better stop laughing, but also he better _not_ fucking stop. Because as annoying as it is, Levi knows there are worse things.

Still, he kicks Eren’s ball further back than it was. Fuck the people behind them. They can wait.

“H-Hey!” Eren runs over to stop the ball with his foot, and at least that ebbs the laughter somewhat. “Now _that_ was bullshit.”

“This whole _game_ is bullshit.” Levi mutters, lining up for his next shot even though it’s technically not his turn.

He’s waiting for Eren to call him out on it, but all he gets is another short laugh and a happily sighed, “ _Yeah_.”

Levi looks back at him, eyebrows furrowed, but Eren is staring down at his ball where it’s still resting against the edge of his shoe.

“Yeah, it’s bullshit, but…” Eren looks up at him. “You’re having fun.”

Levi glances around. He looks to his left. He looks to his right. He looks behind him. But he’s the only person standing in the direction Eren is looking, so he must be fucking talking to him.

“You’re right. This is exactly what I look like when I’m having fun.” Levi gives him a dead stare, and Eren actually attempts to muffle his next chuckle with his fist.

(They’re coming easier and easier.)

“It is, though,” Eren says, more to himself than to Levi, and Levi turns away, hand tightening around the golf club. The only tension Levi feels now is stretched between his own shoulders. He closes his eyes and tips his face towards the sky, exhaling.

“I feel like a kid,” he mutters, beginning to feel the sting of embarrassment from his rage induced mini golf tantrum. Fuck, it even _sounds_ ridiculous.

“Yeah?” Eren is beside him so suddenly that Levi nearly jumps sideways, although he just manages to hang onto the shred of composure he still has. He glances cooly at Eren. “We are kids,” he says too quietly, the corner of his mouth pulling into something sad and yearning. Like he wants to believe that it can be true.

“Are we?” Levi asks without looking at him. He hasn’t felt like a kid in a long time—hasn’t acted like one for even longer. Sometimes, life needs you to grow up, whether you want to or not.

“Yeah.” Eren grabs at his wrist again, and Levi can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t just go for his hand. “We are.”

When Levi turns his head, Eren is looking down again, focused on the way his thumb is running over the hill of Levi’s wrist bone.

“We’re fucking kids. We’re stupid, and immature, and we… We don’t have to pretend like we’re cooler than everything, we don’t have to pretend that we’re adults. We can play mini golf and stay up all night and make stupid jokes and fall in love too easily and eat so much junk food we get sick—”

Wait, what was that one about love?

“—and just.” Eren’s grip tightens to the point where it almost hurts. “Just—“

“Yo, lovebirds!”

Levi jerks away from Eren so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash.

Eren lets him go, his fingers going limp.

“You guys gonna finish the hole or what? Some people actually want to play.”

“It’s not like you have anywhere better to be, you homophobic asshole!” Levi bites back, the sudden ache in his chest making him feel particularly pissed off. The guy is bigger than him, Levi can admit that much, but Levi’s fought bigger. If nothing else, a fight might be just what he needs to sort through all the shit he’s suddenly feeling.

“W-woah, dude, I’m not—this isn’t about you being gay, like whatever dude, we just want to play the game, that’s all, like this isn’t about—”

The guys is spluttering so badly that it just makes Levi want to mess with him _more_ , but he’s hardly opened his mouth when Eren is right there in front of him.

“Levi.” He looks more flustered than Levi is used to seeing him. “It’s fine, okay, let’s just—we can go.”

“ _Go?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s—whatever, it’s fine.” Eren’s smile is small. Forced.

(Fragile.)

“We’ve played through most of it,” Eren says, like that’s _enough_. “Besides, it’s been twenty minutes already.” He says it like an offering, and so Levi doesn’t point out that it’s been twenty minutes about five times over and they’re _still fucking here_. “Let’s just—go.”

Like he doesn’t want to be here. Like he doesn’t care. Like he didn’t just give that whole speech about being kids and acting like kids and… Enjoying their youth or whatever the fuck the point of it was supposed to be.

(Like he wasn’t smiling and laughing the way he used to, even for just a little while.)

Like this wasn’t all Eren’s stupid idea to begin with.

“ _Let’s just go?_ ” Levi hisses, and even he’s surprised by the venom in it. This was his chance, his strategically located emergency exit door, but now that it’s right in front of him Levi’s finding a hard time taking it.

He never even wanted to do this.

(He thinks of Eren’s smile.)

But like fuck is he going to quit _now_.

Levi’s resolve settles, and there must be _something_ on his face because Eren takes a hesitant step back, and Levi is fairly certain he sees the asshole that interrupted Eren before disappear quickly behind the haunted house. “Are you trying to tell me that you got me to play through thirteen holes of this _torture_ and you aren’t even going to fucking see it through?”

Eren, for once, looks at a complete loss for words.

“Uh—”

Levi doesn’t wait for whatever his brilliant rebuttal might have eventually been. He jabs Eren in the side with the handle of his club, glaring at him.

“We have five holes left,” he says, his tone a warning. “It’s your fucking turn.”

Eren looks at where the club is digging into his side, and then back at Levi. Almost like he can’t connect the dots between the person and the action. Almost like he doesn’t believe it.

(Levi’s not quite sure _he_ believes it, either.)

“Yeah.” Eren swallows, and there’s a bit of a spark behind his eyes again. “Okay.”

*

“Okay so…” Eren taps his pen rhythmically against the table where they’re seating, lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to add up their scores in his head instead of using the calculator on his phone. It’s later than Levi had been expecting (and _colder_ ), but is substantially quieter than it was when they got here. The kids are gone, the flood of couples has calmed down to a manageable trickle, and an employee is already going around and collecting all the tacky Valentine’s Day decorations with the kind of enthusiasm most 20-somethings who get paid minimum wage have.

She pops one of the tacky red foil heart balloons with a pair of scissors and a blank face. Levi empathizes.

“Huh.”

Levi shifts his gaze back to Eren, who is staring down at their scorecard with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Seven plus eight is fifteen,” Levi says, pulling his hood on. His ears are starting to get cold.

“Ha ha,” Eren says sardonically. “No, we… We tied?” Eren mouths something to himself, and then nods. “Yeah, we tied.”

“We _what?_ ” Levi snatches the card from between his fingers. It’s the first time he’s looked at it all night, and he hates seeing that _one_ twelve in his column, but ignores it for now. Eren tallied the first nine holes, and then the last nine, and not only did they tie the entire game, but they tied the first half and the second half.

…or Eren is fucking _awful_ at math.

Levi pulls out his phone.

“My math is fine,” Eren grouses, and Levi ignores him. Five plus two plus three plus— “I already checked it three times.”

“We didn’t tie.” There’s no fucking way. Levi is shit at mini golf. Even he can admit that. He would rather accept what is admittedly a deserved defeat than have them end in a fucking _tie_.

“We super tied. We tied the first nine holes, and the last nine holes, _and_ the entire game.” Eren rests his chin in his hand. “Guess you’re not as bad at mini golf as you thought.”

“Guess you’re not as _good_ at it, either.” Because _shit_ , Eren’s math checks out. They… They fucking _tied_ somehow.

“Hey, I never said I was _good_ at mini golf. Just because you do something a lot doesn’t make you good at it. I mean, you had to rewrite that Macbeth paper like three times and you still got a C on it.”

Levi flips him off, still staring at the scorecard. Eren drew a smiley face next to Levi’s name, which is the most inappropriate use of a smiley face Levi’s ever seen.

“Looks like you owe me a rematch,” Levi says, keeping his eyes on the scorecard even as he hears Eren nearly topple out of his chair.

“Are you—are you fucking with me?”

“Probably.” Levi sits up, shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. Eren is staring at him, his face a torn mess between hesitance and hopefulness. _For fuck’s sake_.

“So you… Might go mini golfing again?” Eren hedges, and Levi can see a smile starting to bloom in the corner of his mouth.

He looks away and shrugs, and then suddenly Eren is _there_ , right _there_ , invading Levi’s space _completely_.

(He’s warm.)

Levi jerks away instinctively.

“That’s not a no.” Eren’s eyes are wide, excited. “ _That’s not a no_.”

“You’re literally so fucking annoying,” Levi says without fully meaning it, and Eren’s smile blossoms. “How else are we going to break our tie?”

“They have an air hockey table inside,” Eren suggests, and it almost feels like a test. At least it’s a test Levi knows how to pass.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m touching _anything_ in that arcade.”

If Eren’s chuckle is anything to go by, Levi thinks he aced it.

“Let’s go.” Levi stands up, jostling Eren where he was getting a little _too_ close. “My dick is about to freeze off, and I’m starving.”

“Emily’s? Onion rings on me,” Eren offers, and there is something in Levi that slots into place and feels remarkably right. He almost reaches up, like he’d be able to feel the sensation taking place through his chest, but curls his fingers in his pockets instead.

He starts crumpling up the scorecard in the process. Shit, he forgot he was holding this garbage. He pulls it out, glancing around for the closest trash can, when Eren’s hand suddenly and inexplicably closes over his.

“Wait.” He stares too steadily into Levi’s eyes, and then pulls the scorecard from between his fingers. “I want to keep it.”

“You want to _keep it?_ ” Levi wrinkles his nose. “It’s _trash_.”

“No.” Eren presses it to his chest. “It’s a token of our first Valentine’s Day together,” Eren insists, matter-of-factly, and then starts back for the arcade, both his and Levi’s clubs tucked under his arm.

“Our _first?_ ” Levi asks, aghast, following after him but absolutely not picking up his pace so he can catch up. Eren will just have to fucking wait. “What, you think us spending Valentine’s Day together is going to be a _thing_ now?”

This time, when Eren smiles, there’s something to it. Something Levi’s not sure he’s ever seen before. Something that draws Levi to a stop, and makes those slotted pieces in his chest stutter and thud.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?

**Author's Note:**

> [love me on tumblr & reblog?](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/post/171181639895/par-the-course)
> 
> ~~this is a mess and maybe one day I'll like it more than I do right now lol~~


End file.
